


Electric Blue

by gonebookin (orphan_account)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Apologising, Full of spoilers, Hand kisssing, I know nothing about painting nails oops, M/M, My innocent soul can only type hand kisses, Nail Painting, Pining Gon for a change, Post-Canon, Probably too much emotion, Reunions, There's no mouth to mouth sorry, because there's never enough killugon fan fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5771416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gonebookin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What begins as the typical 'Gon-embarrassing-Killua-and-Killua-being-an-adorable-little-kitten' experience quickly transcends into what Killua had been avoiding, but waiting, to hear for months. <br/>But are some things better off unsaid?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electric Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Whoop! First fan fiction OVER!  
> I know it's a bit rushed but bear with me, I'll hopefully get better at this sorta thing soon... There's so much I wanna write that sentences become all muddled and make no sense, but I'm working on it!

Killua hated his past cowardice.

Of course, he was aware that it wasn't necessarily his fault - alike a lot of things, too many things, the Zoldycks were to blame. The murderous intent; the self-depreciation; the amount of lives he had stolen, like a pathetic mockery of the grim reaper.

His family were to blame. His upbringing was to blame. Not _him_.

On the days when he wanted, _needed_ , to see the brighter side, he thought about how if it weren't for Zoldyck family life (or rather, how to take a life) lessons, then he wouldn't be alive. He hoped that, in a sense, all his 'training' wasn't for nothing; that it had indirectly saved others. But, this didn't outweigh the many lives he didn't... save.

Unsurprisingly, the so-called 'brighter side' didn't work much. He was still far from planning to send his family a courtesy card and a box of chocolates. (If he could give away chocolate to others in the first place).

Positivity was near useless.

Breathing was a constant reminder of how his survival was more down to his cowardice than anything else.

Running away had been something they had drilled into him to do, both literally and metaphorically, though considerably less so since the whole 'date' incident.

The 'date with Palm' incident.

The _'_ _date with not Killua_ _'_ incident.

Needless to say, he had never been happier to plunge pliant claws into his forehead. He remembered his reluctance to hide the wound with a bandage; He wanted to continue letting the blood drip into his line of sight. Unfortunately, Gon just _had_ to be a good friend and insist it heal.

It didn't heal over.

The scar still remained as prominent as it was all those years ago, which he didn't consider an issue at all - the very opposite in fact. It was a physical declaration of his change: in his freedom, in his mentality, in his loyalty towards Gon.

It held way more importance than a stupid single star status. More importance than a shinier hunter card.

Perhaps that was why, unlike the whip marks latticed across Killua's body, it didn't hurt to look at.

But, despite this strengthened resolve, there were still situations where Killua wanted to escape and longed for the effective assistance the needle gave in that task. For reasons unknown, he found that these situations happened to be when he wasn't in danger, physical danger anyway...

Not that it didn't make them feel any less threatening.

This had happened months prior, when he met up with Gon the first time in years, the first time since everything that had happened.

His stance had tensed innately upon the sight of gravity-defying hair and a smile, too bright to look at. Too bright for someone like _him_ to look at. He felt his eyesight blur,  a smile that felt foreign upon his face, but not the same foreign as when he was 12...

Spending time watching his sisters grow up and explore the world had unknowingly taught him the difference between a natural and forced smile.

He knew how a natural smile felt, it curled up, poking dimples into his face as if to remind himself that it was real. In contrast, the other smiles were angled and pricked his cheeks like pins. At times, when he felt like the average, should-be teenager, he contemplated how he could've coped though a childhood with that pain. 

Spending time with his sisters made him realise that the smile he bore, when looking into Gon's fiery amber eyes, hurt.

Although he hadn't literally ran away from their conversation, the thing that _should've_ been discussed was avoided like the plague... They had yet to discuss it seriously, even now. He assumed that Gon must've forgotten about it by now.

Whether he felt relieved or angered by that, he was unsure.

Though, he supposed that the need to hide had ebbed away after around a month of being in Gon's presence.

Since then, instances where he wanted to run away were rare.

But...

" _Kil-lu-aaa_! Why don't you want to do it?" The enigma at the foot of his bed whined, seemingly oblivious to his friend's inner turmoil as he neared closer. "People who are close do it all the time!"

Killua flushed, angrily of course, at the wording. As always, this was followed by an attempt to will the redness off of sweat-sheened skin. And as always, the effort was in vain.

_Fuck my albino genetics._

He crossed his arms, panicked eyes darting instinctively to the quickest exit, whilst huffing out a reply to the boy in front of him.

"No, they don't."

"But they really do!"

"But they really don't..."

"But they really, really, do!"

Sensing the futility in continuing that argument, because of Gon's stubbornness and definitely not that adorable pout, Killua collapsed onto the mattress, grumbling muffled words into a hotel pillow.

"How would you know anyway? I doubt you've had any normal experiences like _that_."

Gon leant back, thumb pressed deep into his chin as he considered an answer, face scrunched up in an obscene amount of concentration. A crease was etching between two furrowed brows and he slapped his cheeks out of frustration. Killua was torn between laughing at the ridiculous amount of thought his best friend was putting into his reply or crying out of stress.

Or calling Alluka to cry out of stress.

He settled on his usual disinterested face and an internal sigh of relief from the increased distance between him and Gon; It was more difficult to stay nonchalant within close proximity after all.

A fact he often repeated to drown out the want for his personal space to be breached.

A fact he often repeated to remind himself of how possible it was for Gon to think similarly - the possibility being in the negatives.

Surpassing impossibility.

Gon's sudden gasp of remembrance warned Killua of the monologue to come.

"Mito-san told me that she did it a lot when she was our age... I think she still does actually... and she said she enjoyed it!" Another deep inhale. "And! And! I've seen it on the TV on loads of programmes... The characters who do it always seem to be close and they looked like they were enjoying it, so I thought that we'll enjoy it too! Come to think of it, they always seem to do it on beds and-"

"I get the point!" Killua spluttered, unsure of how he would've reacted if the rambling had continued. "But Gon, you realise that the people that enjoy this aren't us right?! I doubt they..." _assassinated hundreds of innocent people or nearly died by being a stupid, self-destructive, selfish idio-_

Twitching claws were promptly shoved into pockets. That was a thought for another time. 'Another time' preferably being never again.

Forget.

Breathe in.

Forgive.

Breathe out.

"We're teenage boys Gon, and they weren't."

"Mm? And?"

" **TEENAGE BOYS DON'T NORMALLY PAINT EACH OTHER'S NAILS IDIOT**!"

Gon tilted his head and blinked wide amber eyes once. Twice. Thrice.

"But Killua, we won't be painting _each other's,_ I only really want to paint yours. Besides, I want to do it with Killua, so what's wrong with that? How does us doing it make it any different from two girls doing it?"

"Society's expectations is a bitch, Gon."

"Does Killua think that way too?" The curiosity on Gon's freckled face segued into something more serious. Something akin to concern, to guilt, to regret. "This is your choice Killua, if you don't want to, then we don't have to..."

 _'If you don't want to, I don't want to'_   went unspoken.

It was in Gon's nature to blurt out the first thing he thought but recently a lot of things he wanted to say were not said. A surprising amount of things. Too many things. He wanted to ask Killua about the frown that distorted his face when he thought Gon wasn't looking; he wanted to ask about what he cried about when he thought Gon was asleep; he wanted to ask why he kept this in the dark, hidden from him.

He just wanted to help.

"I-idiot! It's only nails! " Killua spluttered. Gon pulled his attention back to Killua; his best friend's reactions were a welcome distraction. Pale lips were curved into a nervous scowl and arms were crossed defensively over his chest. "I haven't run away yet have I?"

The doubt in Gon's eyes softened when he recognised that it would be the closest he could get to a truth out of Killua, not that this stopped him from pressing a final time though.

Double checking was important, a lesson he held dear.

After all, He found seeing Killua embarrassed, because of _him_ specifically, cute.

Adorable, even.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-Yeah." Killua turned so only his tensed back and the blush on the shell of his ears were facing Gon.

 _Definitely adorable_.                         

* * *

 

Killua couldn't believe that after all this time, he still couldn't manage a two letter, one syllable 'no'. A word that didn't even need to be uttered, could be shown by a single shake of the head.

A part of him supposed that maybe it was because he didn't want to say no. He flushed at the admittance.

For once, Killua was grateful for Gon's overwhelming enthusiasm - He was too busy rummaging though a bag filled to the brim with manicure products to see the revealing red upon his friend's face...

Killua wondered whether Gon's excitement was wasted on something as mundane as _painting nails._

Yet again, Killua supposed he shouldn't question the energy when it wasn't doing any harm. It was contagious after all; definitely not doing any harm.

"It must've been a very good programme for you to be this well prepared, eh?"

Gon nodded so hard that Killua wondered whether his brain was rattling around in his skull.

"Yup!" He looked over his shoulder at the white haired boy, who was too preoccupied looking at something fascinating on the ceiling to give Gon eye contact. "What colour would you like best?"

Killua breathed a chuckle at the surreal normality of the situation but decided to play along.

"What would single star stylist hunter Gon Freecss recommend?"

Gon hurriedly turned back to the spectrum of varnishes until bounding back towards the bed with a speed that should be reserved for battle.

"That's a hunter?!"

"Idio-."

Killua startled at the sudden sensation of fingers under his chin. Gon gently tilted his face towards him as he held an azure blue bottle against Killua's temple. The wide-eyed teen could only watch as his best friend's gaze flickered from his eyes to the varnish, back to his eyes and then to some area below his nose. Just when he began to bask in the feel of the calloused fingers, the sensation vanished, leaving him stilled in slight disappointment. "Well, um, T-This blue matches your eyes. It's very pretty,"

Killua tried not to dwell on the indirect compliment.

"But I thought this green might suit you too!"

Killua dragged his eyes downward to look at the other bottle resting in Gon's palm. It was an ugly green, too bright and quite disorientating... But it was somewhat nostalgic.

_Like the colour of Gon's clothes._

"I thought you said you were colour co-ordinated?" Killua teased, not knowing how to arrange the mess of thoughts that resided in his mess of a mind.

"If Killua can't decide, I could always apply both. Like one nail blue, one green, that sorta thing," Gon beamed at him. Light flooded behind him through the window, bringing all of Killua's attention to round eyes that gleamed like liquid gold. "It's all up to you."

"I-I guess I could handle both, only to get this over and done wi-"

He startled again as rough, yet gentle, fingers slid around his bony wrist. The contrast between ruggedness and softness rendered Killua's mind blank; all he could think about was the feel of Gon's battle-worn hands, the sound of someone's nails scraping against a filer, (he recognised them as his own when the filer clipped against the skin on a shaking finger) followed by a faint squeak of a lid being screwed off.

Gon's grip on his wrist never wavered.

Killua didn't realise how much time had passed until he felt something cold on his thumbnail. He glanced across to see a look of almost comedic concentration on his friend's face; His tongue was poking out of his lips as he cradled Killua's digits as if they were made of porcelain, dabbing the electric blue varnish onto nails with an almost agonising amount of diligence. It was even exhausting to look at.

"Are you sure your eyes aren't gonna pop out from squinting so hard?" Killua finally asked after he had finished applying the blue on the occasional nail on both hands.

Gon's reply was instantaneous yet genuine as he twisted open the green varnish, preparing to cover the remaining nails.

"Only if it makes it look good on Killua! I think it already looks good though... Do you like this Killua?"

"I-I guess it's not that boring... You better be having fun, I've sacrificed precious time for this y'know?" _Are you enjoying it too?_

There were only so many thoughts Gon could keep unsaid, so many thoughts that he didn't understand why he wasn't saying but didn't anyway.

He couldn't hold back anymore.

"I'm really enjoying this Killua! Your hands are so soft - They're softer than I remembered. They feel really nice to hold... Why don't we hold hands anymore Killua? I miss that," Gon paused, feeling the quickening of a pulse beneath the pads of his fingers. "Your pulse was going fast too. Is that normal?"

"It's a reaction to the varnish." Killua blurted, too quickly to be considering a truth. Knowing this, the older teen giggled.

"Sure, sure."

* * *

The last five minutes was spent in a comfortable silence. But he knew the silence couldn't last forever.

It was when both of his hands were finished when he noticed the seriousness had reappeared on Gon's face. The same concern, the same regret, the same self-hatred.

Guilt.

He grasped Killua's wrist, staring at the scars that you had to strain to see, scattered over his hands.

He wondered whether it was him or Killua's family that caused those marks.

_Was there much difference?_

"Gon?" Fingers that trailed around Killua's wrist travelled up to his palm; lightly tracing every crease, every crack, every crevice residing on ghost white skin. Pale skin that had at one point been near midnight black, like lumps of coal that hung limp at the ends of his arms. Singed by flames of nen, singed by _Gon's_ nen.

"Gon!"

"I never apologised did I?"

The silence that succumbed upon them was the opposite of comfortable.

"You did."

"That wasn't enough, and you know it Killua,"

Killua opened and closed his mouth, but being unsure of how he'll sound when he spoke, he shakily nodded.

"I'm sorry Killua, for not being there to help you when Illumi took you away," He gently laid a kiss upon the hand that had been soaked with another man's blood, another man he didn't want to kill. "I-I'm sorry for hurting you at Greed Island," Another kiss upon the hand that had been burnt to a crisp. "I'm sorry for saying those horrible things to you,"

It was as if the words had opened a dam of emotions for him. Gon was near bawling into Killua's shoulder now. _(When did they get so close?)_

"I'm sorry for leaving, Killua, I've changed now."

_I love you so, so much._

"Thank you," The words were spoken softly, cracked yet resolute. Tanned arms quivered around his waist, hands changing between splaying and clutching the fabric upon his back.

"Thank you Gon," _Thank you for apologising, thank you for changing me, thank you for existing._

He didn't need to elaborate.

And as Gon smiled against the nape of his neck, he didn't either.

* * *

"Hey Gon?"

"Mm?"

"This green looks terrible on me."

"Really? I think it suits you, Killua."

He raised his hands, looking at the ridiculous combination of bright blue and garish green painted blotchily upon talons masked as nails. Killua felt his mouth twitch at the beginning of a smile. A true smile.

_Maybe it does after all._

**Author's Note:**

> I only just recently finished watching the anime so this was my way of venting out my frustrations at the lack of a proper apology, so sorry about how, um, serious it is I guess?  
> When writing this up, I honestly intended for it to be a lot more light-hearted and more about painting nails than Killua's torture, oops.


End file.
